


Free at last

by BeastOfTheReach



Series: Stories of the Reach [3]
Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Briarhearts (Elder Scrolls), Other, Skyrim Quest: The Forsworn Conspiracy, The Forsworn (Elder Scrolls)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-28
Updated: 2020-09-28
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:33:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26693017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BeastOfTheReach/pseuds/BeastOfTheReach
Summary: Madanach and Cyhrain, a werewolf, break out of Cidhna mine, and Madanach reflects on the werewolf's slipping grasp on humanity.(And also the fact he might be slightly into werewolves)Cyhrain is afraid to go home, as they were forced to fight against their own people, but for now, they can rest.Cyhrain is the new hopefully more lore friendly Reachfolk name for my Werewolf character, courtesy of my friend. It's pronounced the same way "Shyren" is.
Relationships: Madanach (Elder Scrolls)/Original Character(s), Madanach/original non-binary character, Original Non-Binary Character/Original Male Character
Series: Stories of the Reach [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1574950
Comments: 2





	Free at last

**Author's Note:**

> I started writing it really long ago but as it sat in my wips it has changed slightly. Like when I started writing it I had Miraak come in and comfort Cyhrain, but it has sat in wips for so long I created Rowan and promptly shipped Cyhrain with him and Miraak kinda moved into the background and out of the fic.

It was already night-time when Madanach stepped out of the ruins and into the city. A small drizzle was starting as well, slowly but steadily soaking everything. Madanach was grateful for the darkness. He imagined daylight would've been painful for him, as he'd forgotten what the sun is like over the long years in the underground prison. Moreover, the darkness and rain would let them get through the city unnoticed and disappear into the hills.

He watched his Forsworn and Cyhrain, his werewolf companion, tear into every guard that dared come their way, as he let ice shards fly from his hands and into more distant targets. He stayed back for a few moments, letting Hircine's chosen clear the way, and admired the beast. Even in their emaciated state, he found that there was something beautiful about them. The werewolf was painfully lean, and most of their body was covered in dark grey fur that shifted into a long purple mane on their head. Both the fur and the mane now looked almost black, soaked with rain and blood. They were still wearing their Forsworn armor, and a scraggly-looking tail was sticking from the back of it. Their arms and muzzle were stained with blood, and red trails were left behind them where rain tried to wash it off. 

Still, Madanach was worried for Cyhrain. Their grasp on humanity was slipping. He met the werewolf only recently as they were thrown into the mines and started a fight with his Orc guard, and managed to bloody him up. He'd left his cell to see what the commotion was about, and came face to face with a purple-haired Forsworn on the brink of complete frenzy. Black patches of fur were growing on their arms, and their fingers ended with vicious claws. 

Madanach received reports of a being known as Beast of the Reach before, and recognized them from the descriptions. Cyhrain had turned to face him, shaking and snarling, fighting the beast within. He stood at the iron gate separating them, and spoke to the werewolf, and slowly they calmed down, their breath steadied, and they looked haggard and scared. He let them stay in his cell, and shared food with them, and wondered how the great Beast of the Reach managed to end up captured. 

Cyhrain didn't talk much, and when they did their voice was quiet and raspy. They spoke of their lover being held hostage and then being forced to kill other Forsworn at the behest of the Silver-bloods, and Madanach's heart ached for them. He understood. He wondered if his own eyes had the haunted look he saw in Cyhrain's. The werewolf's presence reminded him how distant he'd been. It was time to take the fight to the hills.

So here they were, fighting their way out of Markarth, and Cyhrain was losing their humanity again, and Madanach had to admit he was scared. 

Cyhrain was blissfully unaware of their King's woes. They didn't feel much in the way of emotions in general at the moment, consumed by hunger and bloodlust. Their claws tore through armor and flesh, their howling Thu'um sending the guards flying off the terraces. Markarth was built surprisingly well for throwing and Shouting people off tall cliffs, the beast noticed. Still, it was much more fun to just rip them apart and chew on their bones.

They saw their King staring at them with his bright blue eyes, and then saw a man charging at him, and pounced. Madanach flinched, momentarily thinking the werewolf had finally lost to the beast inside them, but then they flew past him and tackled a guard to the ground and tore into his throat. 

Warm blood. Red haze. Cyhrain's mind drowned in it. 

And then, they came back to the surface, and they were outside the city, still in beast form, completely exhausted and covered in blood. They turned around, and saw several mangled bodies by the gates. Fear nagged at them vaguely. Did they cause all that? Their memory was foggy. How much time has passed? It was still night. Last thing they remembered clearly was shifting into their beast form before escaping the mines, and how hungry and tired they were. Then there was a confrontation with a man just outside. Thonar? Something? Then Madanach launched an ice spike into the man’s chest, and Cyhrain pounced the man, driven mad with the scent of blood, and then they blacked out.

Cyhrain made their way to the front of the group and walked by Madanach's side, then gently headbutted his shoulder. They whined, seeking comfort from the intruding thoughts. He seemed to understand, and let the beast lean onto him. 

"You've come back," Madanach said quietly. "Thank the gods."

Cyhrain looked at him. They suddenly remembered seeing his eyes when they jumped at someone, and the momentary flash of fear in them.

"Did... I Hurt.... You?" Speaking was an ordeal in this form, even more so than in their human form, but they knew they'd collapse from exhaustion if they shifted now.

Madanach shook his head, and scratched the werewolf behind the ear.

"Don't... Remember," the beast rasped, hanging their head low. 

"You helped us get out of the city. You never tried to hurt me, or any of the Forsworn."

"That's...good."

The group walked quietly through the rain and fog, cold and wet, but grateful for the cover of the gloom. Cyhrain felt their strength fading, along with their grip on the beast form, and eventually, they shifted back with a tired sigh. 

"Where are we going?" 

"Druadach."

Oh. Shit. An image flashed in Cyhrain's mind, of Druadach's Briarheart crumpled dead at their feet and other Forsworn yelling and scrambling for their weapons. Cyhrain betrayed their people that day. They had no other choice, the Nords captured both them and Rowan, and used him to control the Beast. Still, they shrunk at the words.

"I can’t go there," Cyhrain whispered, afraid of others knowing. "I...They made me kill the Briarheart there. He was the first. They'll want to kill me on sight." 

And Cyhrain wouldn't blame them.

Madanach sighed at Cyhrain's confession. He wished he could tell the werewolf that it was going to be okay, but in truth, he just didn't know. There was Reach blood on his hands too, even more than on the beast's claws. But he was a king, and so he could hope for forgiveness. He wasn't sure if the Beast of the Reach had the same privilege. 

Cyhrain was one step away from collapsing when the group finally arrived at the camp. They were so tired that it took a while for them to recognize the lone red-haired figure walking towards them and Madanach. They blinked groggily, not believing their one eye. It couldn't be. Rowan was here, and while Cyhrain could see healing bruises and cuts on him, he seemed otherwise fine, if worried. They were told that he was held hostage and if Cyhrain didn't do as they were told, Rowan would be hurt or killed. They gathered the last bits of strength they had left and made a few stumbling steps towards the man and pretty much fell into his arms. 

"Rowan..." They croaked desperately. "you're...okay? I thought they had you..."

The big Briarheart relaxed a bit, recognizing his lover's voice. 

"They underestimated me, and I escaped." 

Rowan smiled, but his smile wilted when he heard a choking sob. He wrapped his arms around Cyhrain, and held them close. He stroked their hair and noticed the absence of their antlers.

"Where… where are your antlers?" Rowan brushed his hands over the stumps and scabs covering them. 

"They sawed them off..." Cyhrain choked out and buried their face deeper into his shoulder.

Rowan squeezed them and let them cling to him and cry. Old Gods knew they needed it. He stroked Cyhrain's back, and realized how thin they've become, how obvious their bones were under their skin. He could feel the partially healed lacerations that crossed their back as well.

"You're safe now," the briarheart crooned, nuzzling into Cyhrain's hair and kissing the top of their head.

"You're safe and I'm here."

Madanach stopped near the two of them and lightly clasped Cyhrain's shoulder, trying to silently reassure them. Cyhrain turned to look at him, and nodded weakly before hiding their face in Rowan's chest again. Madanach then walked past and into the camp. These two needed space, he reckoned. 

Cyhrain cried into Rowan's chest for a long time, their side of the story making its way out between the sobs. Rowan listened as he held them in a protective embrace. 

"They made me attack Forsworn camps. Told me they'd hurt you if I didn't. Would the Forsworn want me back? Wouldn't they want me dead?"

"I don't think people would want to kill you. You're the Beast of the Reach. You're kind of like Red Eagle in a way. Also, you've helped King Madanach escape."

"Does it matter? I hurt and killed my own people," Cyhrain choked out.

"You didn't have a choice. If anyone starts anything, I will try to talk to them. Come, let's get you cleaned up and into bed."

Rowan picked Cyhrain up, and slowly made his way to the river bank. He placed Cyhrain back on their feet and slowly removed their furs. Cyhrain whimpered as the drag of the armor touched the wounds on their back. 

"They whipped me," they hissed, wincing.

"Tell me where." 

"My whole back."

Rowan's hands hovered over their back, careful to not directly touch the wounds, glowing a soft gold, and Cyhrain felt the pain fade. They managed a weak "thank you".

The rest of Cyhrain's clothing was easier, and Rowan once again scooped them up and carried them to where the water was about waist level. A flame cloak flared to life around the two of them, heating the water until it was comfortably warm. Cyhrain let out a tired sigh and held onto the briarheart while he washed away all the blood and grime. His hands on their body felt comforting and familiar. Just as they started dozing off right there in the warm water, Rowan led them out, and wrapped them in a fluffy pelt. They fell asleep while being carried into the cave, faintly remembering being laid down onto a bed, and then a faintly warm body curling around them. They were home, and could rest. Dealing with everything else could wait.


End file.
